


Yours Truly

by RebelleCrown



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Feels, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Oneshot, Other, Paradise Fears, Songfic, letter writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelleCrown/pseuds/RebelleCrown
Summary: All these years, father or no, Gavriel's never been anything more than Yours Truly.Modern AU in which Gavriel and Aedion have been writing each other letters for a lifetime, but have never met face to face. And maybe there's a good reason to it.Inspired by the Paradise Fears song of the same name.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver & Gavriel
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Yours Truly

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Paradise Fears song of the same name... just some angsty Gavriel & Aedion feels. I couldn't help myself, okay!
> 
> I also really don't know how to work AO3, so apologies for the formatting and everything...! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy, and please leave me a comment!
> 
> (By the way, sorry, I'm bad at judging the length of a oneshot...)

Gavriel looked over the letters spilling out of the box on his desk, hundreds upon hundreds of them. Scrawling scribbles of handwriting evolving into… well, more eloquent scrawls. All of them marking Aedion’s aging over time.

Gavriel had still yet to meet his son. The mother, his beloved Sylvan, hadn’t told him of the child when she’d learned of it, because he was in the military. They’d met in the nights leading up to his first departure, though he couldn’t deny how wildly he loved her after even that little time. Even though she had been leaving, too, planning to move with her sister to Erilea, and he was going to remain in Wendlyn even if he did survive that first battle- love could not be controlled.

She hadn’t told him in the letters she’d written him then, either, but he knew she’d gotten incredibly sick. Back when Aedion must have only been an infant. Gavriel got the leave from his ranks as soon as possible, and headed straight for Erilea.

He was too late. 

Too late for her, and too late for Aedion; Sylvan’s sister Evalin was in custody of him by then- by Sylvan’s wishes. Gavriel tried not to be devastated that she wouldn’t leave the child to him, the father. It was because he was a soldier employed in Wendlyn, he told himself. Not because she didn’t trust him with their child.

Aedion was five or six when Gavriel found the letter in his mailbox. A letter from Evalin.

You might want to use your more basic vocabulary. Aedion will still probably need our help to read your letter.

And then an address. A peace offering; write letters to the child he was destined not to know. And Evalin was offering him this. Offering him… his tomorrow.

In a place of mind where the longing for another day was so hard to come by, Aedion was nothing short of a miracle.

Gavriel took far too much time, far too much consideration, to write that first letter. He was writing to a five year old, after all, he didn’t need to be so precise. But those thoughts stopped nothing, and after much deliberation, he posted the letter. And waited.

Aedion’s return letter a month or so later was, indeed, barely intelligible. But Gavriel could see the excitement within the scribbles, in the words that had either taken Aiden half a second or half an hour to scrawl out. But it was like a beacon in the dark, a searchlight; Gavriel vowed to hold on tightly to the boy’s words.

It had taken one moment. One moment for Evalin to make that decision, to leave that note. One moment for Aedion to scratch out those misshapen letters and cram it all into an envelope. One moment that forever changed Gavriel’s life.

He had been wandering alone through that life, empty and broken after the wars, after Sylvan’s death. But Aedion had taken him into his family, somehow, through that letter. Had… accepted him as his father.

Maybe when someone asked who his father was, Aedion would say Gavriel rather than Rhoe. Maybe when Aedion came home after a long day at school, he would beam and leap with joy to see a new letter sitting on the dining room table the way Gavriel did. And then maybe he’d keep his homework stuffed in the bottom of his bag while he sat down to write out a new letter.

Now, Gavriel smiled back at those memories, memories of when this all had first started, and picked up one of such old letters from Aedion.

Today at school me and Ren went on all the monkey bars. Rose told us to get down before we got hurt but we kept going and didn’t get hurt.

Gavriel chuckled, just a little. He didn’t know who most of the people in his letters were, but that wasn’t what mattered. They weren’t what mattered. Aedion was.

There was something about the letters, Gavriel mused as he flipped through, that was different than face-to-face interaction. Of course, he would have given anything to get to see Aedion for real, get to hold him up and spin him around to hear him laugh, take him to the park or for ice cream. But despite all of that, there was something more open about writing letters, about hiding behind semi-anonymity. You could wear your heart on your sleeve, somehow.

Some of the truths hurt. Some of the transparencies of letter-writing tore down the shields, the armour, and let the words pierce right into the heart without them even knowing. Like when Aedion had raved over the letter-writing, and how awesome it was- as if it was more than enough for him, and he never wanted to meet his father for real.

Even so, Gavriel was shaking his head at the beauty of the truth in his son’s letters. Even now, Gavriel was stunned into disbelief that this was his son, and that he was writing to him. 

But it was true; had been true for some time. Almost twenty four years, and still they wrote those letters, still signed yours truly to the bottom of the papers. Something about it was tiresome, yet still there was something peaceful, too.

Aedion had always been Gavriel’s someday. That impossible dream, just out of reach for him. He had always taken what he could get, but now…

Now Aedion was twenty four. He wasn’t some kid that Evalin could cloister and protect. He wasn’t even busy with college classes anymore. He was old enough to make his own choices. 

But he just kept writing back- sending letters, even though it took a month or so for the back and forth of letters between Erilea and Wendlyn. Gavriel responded in turn, spending most of his free time and even time within his ranks thinking up what to say. Going out to experience the world and constantly smiling, thinking, Aedion would like to hear that. Getting through the hard days by holding on tightly to the things his son had said to him.

Gavriel would be forever grateful for getting the chance to watch his son grow as he had, even if that was all he got. Grateful for getting to see the person his son had become. He was proud of him, even though some doubt-riddled part of him still screamed that Aedion wasn’t really his to be proud of.

Gavriel could remember how it felt to be young, and free, fresh into a world without chains. But Aedion was different still than he had been, allowing his heart to lead his brain and not the other way around. Letting himself see, and become, the person he always wanted to be.

But, sitting alone as he was, Gavriel couldn’t help but think. Couldn’t help but look back on the person he had once been- the person Aedion had once been.

He had joined the military as he had for a multitude of reasons. He wanted to serve and protect, he wanted to make a difference. He wanted freedom, but not for himself. For people like Aedion. And the price to pay for that freedom included the distance. Included the danger.

Included being the distant, shadowed figure of a father. Yours truly.

It didn’t truly matter, the way Gavriel waited. Waited for the mail every single day on the off-chance there’d be a letter from his son, chased the mailman if the scheduled letter was so much as a day late. It didn’t truly matter how much Gavriel found of his son in those jumbles of words, not when he was so lost himself.

It had never been about finding who he was. None of it had ever been about him, ever. But it had been about Aedion, for as long as it possibly could have been. So what did that mean, now?

Gavriel looked at the stack of papers in the wastepaper basket near to his desk, near to overflowing. Filled with crumpled-up drafts of letters he was never going to send, responses Aedion was never going to get. Gavriel still didn’t know what to say.

He had put down his dreams in some of those letters- but no. Too personal, too much of a tangent, a change of subject. He had written and written and nothing had been right, and now it was like he had completely and entirely ran out of words altogether.

He stared back to the blank piece of paper that he’d half-hidden under the torrent of all Aedion’s old letters. All their memories together. He looked back at the letter Aedion had sent him most recently, the one he’d received less than an hour ago.

And he began to write a reply.

It’s Aedion again. What’s new with you? Staying safe and kicking ass, I hope. Things are good over here. Working hard and finding peace- all thanks to you and your men, I don’t doubt. Eternal gratitude from Erilea for all you!

On the subject of which, I… I know things must be busy over there, and hectic, and whatnot. But… if you ever get a holiday from it all, or any kind of break… I’d love to have you in Erilea. Here, with me. I could help pay your way over here, if you needed- or I could go to Wendlyn. But I’d really love to meet you, Dad.

Yours truly  
Aedion

Maybe Aedion had never been Gavriel’s tomorrow, or Gavriel’s someday, he thought to himself. Aedion was the world to him. But he was a distant world. And somehow… somehow, it was meant to be like that. Aedion was his never.

It was half-hearted, as far as goodbyes went, with half of him- more than half- still wanting to try. Wanting to remember, and hold onto, the words they’d said- forever.

But they had to let go now, didn’t they? Had to go out on their own- how Aedion had always wanted it, just the letters. Even if it was almost too late, now. But the letters would be enough, like they always had been.

Gavriel still loved Aedion beyond all comprehension, and wished the world for him. Wished Aedion would continue to find himself in the way that Gavriel had only ever dreamed of doing himself, and wished for him to find himself in someone else, too, as Gavriel had been so lucky to do in Sylvan. Gods, what a miracle she had been- like an enigmatic mirror, reflecting parts of himself he didn’t know he had. The pull to her was still there, still strong, even twined alongside the grief. He could only hope his son would one day be so lucky, and wouldn’t settle for less or for anyone else.

He prayed that Aedion would continue to dream, like the dreamer he knew he could be, and the dreamer he’d been since childhood. 

And, bittersweet as it was, despite the goodbye folded within the envelope, Gavriel knew he would keep dreaming, too. Keep dreaming of the meeting he had been offered, and had left. 

He knew iIt would be too much, for his son to see the man who had hidden on the frontlines when he was needed most, and had left his own flesh and blood alone on an entirely different continent. Too much, to be faced with the man who could take on enemies and rebels without an ounce of fear but who had cowered under the responsibilities he was left with outside of uniform. Who had never once asked Evalin for a thing, only bowed to what she gave him- gods, she probably never even realised he wanted anything more. He was pathetic.

Which was exactly why Gavriel had told his son no. Exactly why he planned to continue hiding- in the hope that the love and respect Aedion could possibly even harbour for him would remain. Rather than withering away when faced with the man in person. No, Gavriel wouldn’t be able to take having what he did have left stripped away from him. 

So he’d signed it. Yours truly. And now he posted it, set it free and waited for his so-distant son to receive it.

Aedion’s fingers shook around the letter. His eyes burned and the words blurred away.

No.

The answer, in short, was no. The answer he’d waited two months for; no. No, his father did not want to meet him. No, his father did not want to see him. No.

Lysandra murmured softly and rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades as she finished reading. Aedion didn’t bother to try to finish. Just let the paper fall from his hands, and let the tears fall down his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Aedion,” Lysandra whispered, leaning around to see his face.

Aedion only cried harder. “I-” he choked, and Lysandra shushed him softly, still rubbing his back. He let himself shudder with another silent sob, let himself lean into her side and find comfort where she offered it. “I just hoped-”

“I know,” she said softly. She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “Oh, Aedion, I know.”

Aedion hadn’t been unhappy, growing up. Far from it.

He’d grown up with his late mother’s sister, Evalin, and her husband, Rhoe. Their daughter, Aelin, when she’d been born. And that had been good.

He’d had friends at school, and made more as he grew older. He’d met Lysandra after graduating college, the love of his life. His life was good- meant to be good. And he’d only thought that having Gavriel in it would make it better.

But… no.

Gavriel was his tomorrow, Aedion had decided all those months ago. He’d lived his life in a “today” state of mind for most of his twenty-four years- living free, living in the moment. Doing whatever he felt whenever he felt it. 

But he was done with running like that. Running from one part of life to the next, and never facing his past, not truly. He wanted to face his past- and not just to face it, as if it were just something that had to be done. But he… he wanted to meet his father.

And his father didn’t want to meet him.

“He was my tomorrow,” Aedion choked out quietly. Lysandra knew what it meant, and only pulled him closer.

“There’s no harm in telling him that,” she said gently. “Telling him that he means a lot to you, whether he says yes or not. Not even a letter to convince him, but just to make him understand.”

Aedion wiped his face, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. “Maybe,” he conceded. He nodded to himself, leaning his head to the side so it rested on top of hers. He would never stop being grateful for her, and for how she understood him; reflected him, almost.

“I love you,” he murmured.

She found and gripped his hand, tight. “I love you, too.”

Aedion closed his eyes for a minute. “Let’s write that letter.”

A letter to tomorrow.

Aedion knew Lysandra couldn’t be more right about what this letter was- an explanation rather than a persuasion. Aedion knew that Gavriel still might leave. But whether he did or not, he would forever hold tightly to the words he had said over the years- to the shoebox of letters he still had managed to salvage, stored under his bed.

Aedion had let so much go, even beyond the earliest of the letters between them he had lost to Evalin’s recycling campaign. He had let go of friends, he had let go of lovers, he had even let his closest like Aelin drift away over the years. He’d thought of it as just part of growing up… But face-to-face or not, Gavriel was the one thing Aedion was sure of he would never forget, never let fade away.

No matter the determination, it was impossible to fly without wind on your wings. Aedion had been that kid- scrappy and determined, but without the air. Gavriel had been that air for him- had been the wind under his wings, the air in his lungs that kept him going when all else failed, the songs he sung to keep his head high on the days that shouldn’t have been hard but were. Those impossible days, Gavriel was almost always his salvation.

And with that thought in mind, Aedion looked at the letter. Looked as if he could see the words burning through the envelope. And then he let it disappear into the mailbox, and crossed his fingers he’d get a reply in a month’s time.

Gavriel had never had much to believe in, other than that futile hope for a better world that powered him across the immortal battlefields. But then there had been Aedion.

He’d believed in Sylvan. Had believed she would rock the world forever. And perhaps, despite her death… perhaps it was Aedion he had thought of, even then. Perhaps he’d known that Aedion would scrawl his way into his life and knock his world of its axis forever, once, twice, infinitely.

Aedion had given him more to believe in than Gavriel thought was possible. More than should have been possible. And maybe it was time to do what he could to return the favour; settle the score.

“Are you sure?” Vaughn had asked, eyebrows raised, when Gavriel had told him what he was doing.

“I have to,” had been Gavriel’s only reply. “He’s my son.”

Now, as he followed street signs and city maps and the address on a long-crumpled envelope, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of returning home. Home to a place he’d never been, to a person he’d never seen. 

But when the door opened, and he saw him- the blond hair, Ashryver eyes, so much like his mother and yet still so clearly his own son…

Home. There was no other word for the boy than home.

And maybe Gavriel was the man who had hidden on the frontlines when he was needed most, and had left his own flesh and blood alone on an entirely different continent. Maybe he was the man who could take on enemies and rebels without an ounce of fear but who had cowered under the responsibilities he was left with outside of uniform. Who had never once asked Evalin for a thing, only bowed to what she gave him- allowing her to believe he’d never wished for anything more than that.

Maybe he was all those things, and more. But he was more. And he could see it in Aedion’s Ashryver eyes, as they widened, then creased into a smile bright enough it couldn’t be possible. Could see it in the hope and joy and pride on the face of the young woman who emerged at his back, beaming just as brightly as he was. Could see that he had truly wanted this, and that he truly loved him enough to see beyond all those cowardly things.

And Gavriel knew then, in his bones and in his soul, that he had always, all this time, been so much more to him than just Yours truly.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!


End file.
